On Wings of Love. Kim Watters
not what we agreed to.”
“But I didn’t sign that contract. You did.”
Brad threw the pen across his desk. When he stood, his chair crashed into the off-white wall, the sound reverberating in Noah’s skull. “You’ve been the one nagging about business. I go out and get a decent contract and now you’re complaining.”
Houston jumped up from underneath Noah’s feet, skittered around the desk and cowered behind their office manager, Hannah Stevenson, who now stood in the doorway. He and Brad counted on her to run an efficient office, and she in turn counted on them to keep a roof over her and her young son’s head.
“Are you guys okay in here?” The pale, delicate-looking redhead asked.
“We’re fine. Just discussing a little business,” Brad responded. “How are you doing today? You look nice.”
Noah noticed his office manager blushed easily like another woman he’d recently met. A woman who had no reason to intrude on his thoughts today.
Hannah’s eyebrows skimmed her bangs as her lips twisted into a hesitant smile. “I’m fine, thank you. Okay then. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
Once Hannah retreated to the front room, Noah pinched the bridge of his nose to keep the nightmare at bay. “But why AeroFlight? Why did you have to contract with them?”
Brad walked over and clasped Noah’s arm. “It kills me to see you like this. You think you’re living, but you’re not. I’ve watched you suffer for three years. Please. Let Michelle and Jeremy rest. AeroFlight is a wonderful organization and provides a necessary service.”
Noah drew back. Raw anger threatened to crush the last piece of sanity he’d struggled to hold on to. He wasn’t sure he would ever be able to forgive Brad. “You sound like Ruth.”
“Try and see the positive for once.” Brad continued.
“What positive? You’ve been my friend for fifteen years. You were my best man. You were there when Jeremy was born. You met me at the hospital when they brought Michelle and Jeremy in after the accident. You helped with the funeral arrangements.”
A tear slipped down Noah’s cheek.
His tight fisted hand pushed it away.
“What positive, Westberry? Answer me.”
“Your son’s organs saved other lives that day. Michelle’s could have, too, if she’d been an eligible donor. But you’ve been too wrapped up in the guilt and denial to see past that crooked nose on your face. Maybe I should break it again.” Brad drew back and flexed his fingers.
“Touch me and this partnership is over,” Noah growled. “The doctors I counted on to save Jeremy’s life created a donor so that someone like Ruth Fontaine could harvest his organs and offer them to the highest bidder.”
Brad shook his head, concern etched across his face. His harsh voice pushed through Noah’s thoughts. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. The doctors did everything they could. If you want to blame someone, blame the drunk who hit them. If you don’t take the call when it comes in from AeroFlight, we may as well dissolve the business and go our separate ways.”
Noah downed the remaining soda and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. He watched his friend leave to go flirt with Hannah. Brad didn’t understand.
Sure, Michelle had been his cousin and Brad had introduced them, but his partner hadn’t had the close relationship that only a husband and wife could have.
Had.
Michelle was gone. Jeremy was gone.
Emptiness consumed him.
His fingers crushed the empty can. Burying himself in the business wasn’t working anymore. He’d been a fool to think it would work in the first place. Or maybe he’d been lucky it had lasted as long as it had.
Noah whistled for Houston so they could escape the four walls confining him. No matter what Brad said, he had no intention of flying Ruth or any other group of vultures around.
Chapter Four
Ruth watched the King Air touch down through bleary eyes as she stood by the window of the tiny shack located at an airstrip outside of Rio Salado City. At least the airplane brought a little lightness to the drab brown high desert surrounding the lone runway.
Fatigue wrapped around the muscle in her temple and yanked the pain winning out over the satisfaction of another successful coordination. Even her stomach was too tired to protest. How long would it take the pain relievers she’d taken with a sip of warm water to get rid of the migraine? Probably as soon as she got some sleep. And a decent meal. The sandwich from the hospital cafeteria left a lot to be desired, but at least her hunger had subsided.
Ruth disposed of the empty wrapper from the chocolate bar she’d bought for dessert from the vending machine into the garbage can as the aircraft approached. She didn’t recognize the prop plane and wondered which company had come to pick her up—or more specifically, who piloted it.
“Bye, Joe. Thanks for waiting with me.” She waved to the staff employee from the hospital that had stayed with in her the tiny building that protected them from the elements.
She slipped out of the metal door, her footsteps echoing off the concrete still wet from the monsoon that blew through an hour before. Thankfully, she hadn’t had to face the brunt of the storm outside while she waited for flights to resume so the pilot could land the plane.
After inhaling the fresh, damp smell, Ruth faltered about thirty yards from the aircraft. The staircase lowered from the plane, and a dog bounded down the steps.
“Houston.” Pushing aside her exhaustion and headache, Ruth squatted down and held her arms open. The tiny dog jumped up, batted her with a muddy paw and licked her face. So much for her nice, clean shirt. “Oh, boy, I’m so happy to see you. How’ve you been?”
As she scratched the dog behind the ears, her heart skipped a beat. That meant Noah had come for her. She hadn’t seen him since he’d changed her flat tire five days ago, and so much had happened in that time. Margaret Ann had taken a turn for the worse and succumbed to the infection Monday. Ruth was devastated at the loss. Then Tuesday the heart meant for Marissa had to go to another child because Marissa was too weak for an operation. Ruth wondered if the little girl would live to see her sixth birthday this weekend.
A tear crested her eyelash, but she shoved it away. God had a plan for everyone. Including Ruth. And Noah. At least Noah’s familiar face was better than another anonymous one, even if only one of the plane’s occupants was happy to see her. Scooping up the wiggly dog in one arm, she stood, hefted her duffel bag on her shoulder and stepped toward the plane and the man standing in the doorway who piloted it.
Sighing, Ruth grabbed the railing and pulled her body up the steps while her eyes skimmed over Noah’s khaki pants, past his muscular chest underneath the green polo shirt he wore today and grazed his firm lips. Without his sunglasses on, Ruth noticed his blue irises deepened to the color of the clearing sky before they darkened like the receding monsoon clouds. The cold, remote look etched across his features signaled his attitude toward her profession hadn’t changed much either.
Once Ruth stood next to him, Noah frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. He should have known Ruth would be the coordinator today. He didn’t like the effect she had on him. She made him want to feel again. The call had come in right after Brad had lost the coin toss and had taken off on a scheduled trip to fly some executives to San Jose with the other pilot, Seth.
Hannah had left for another doctor’s appointment, her second this month, which concerned him, but he didn’t want to pry into his office manager’s personal life, and Noah had been stupid enough to answer the phone instead of letting it go to the answering service. The only reason Noah was here was because he couldn’t afford not to be. Turning down any job would put a strain